Home
by Queen of Air and Darkness
Summary: Okay, this is kind of a what-if, if Oberon and Mab hadn't lifted Meghan's and Ash's exile, and she grew old as he stayed pure fey. It's really sad, and it might possibly make you cry. T only for the sadness.


**EDIT: I just fixed grammatical errors and a few lines/words to make it read better. :)**

**A/N: Warning: this is really sad and will possibly make you cry. Pay attention to the quote at the beginning and the end, because it will make more sense at the end if you remember it. That being said, here we go:**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Iron Fey Series.**

_"Home is not the place but the person that makes it so." - Unknown_

"Ash?"

I put down the book I held in my hands and turned towards the sound of her raspy voice, almost unrecognizable from the clear, ringing tone she had possessed when I first met her seventy years ago.

"Meghan, you should be in bed." I gently scolded, lightly wrapping my arms around her body. It was frighteningly frail, little more than the weight of twigs held together with string. "You know what the doctor said." She stared at me blankly and I stifled a sigh. Her Alzheimer's must be acting up again. "Meghan." I bent down, so we saw eye to eye, folding one arthritic hand into my bigger, stronger, unblemished one. Slowly, I spoke, going through one of the exercises the doctor had taught me to perform whenever this happened. I was just glad he had thought me her grandson, and had not noticed the matching rings on our left ring fingers. "What is my name?" I asked her, enunciating each word.

She looked at me strangely, as if I were the one that had begun losing my memory. "Ash," she said confidently. "You are my wonderful Unseelie faery husband, Ash." The way she spoke, the playful light in her eyes, reminded me why I had fallen in love with her so many years ago, why I had chosen exile for her, why I was still with her as she grew old and withered and weak, and I remained unchanged from when we met. I had to deal with the iron everyday as well, the iron surrounding our home and society. Knowing my discomfort, Meghan had moved our home to the country, far away from iron-laden cities, and there we had stayed all those years.

"What is your name?" I asked her. It took a second longer than it should of, but she answered correctly. "Your best friend is named Robin Goodfellow. What is his nickname?"

She stared at me blankly, then her brow furrowed as she thought. My stomach sunk deeper and deeper as the seconds passed and she didn't answer. Finally, she opened her mouth. "I… don't know." She said slowly, her blue eyes conflicted and confused.

My stomach hit rock bottom and I led her over to a couch, taking her in my arms as her face rested against my chest. "Meghan, remember. Please, please remember. I can't bear to see you like this, to lose you like this." I said, not sure anymore if I was talking to her or myself. "You aren't the same sixteen-year-old girl I met and fell in love with all those years ago, but I know you're in there; you have to be. Please. Please."

She didn't respond, remaining motionless in my arms. "Meghan?"

She gave only a soft snore in response and I sighed, picking her up and bringing her to our shared bedroom, lying her down on the bed. I watched her for several minutes, holding her hand and thinking about us. What would I do when she died? Where would I go? Did I really have any reason to be in this world, without her?

"Mab requests your presence."

I spun around, keeping glamour at the ready in case I needed to attack. So many years spent outside of the Nevernever had caused me to stop wearing my sword constantly, but I always kept it in the corner of our bedroom if need be.

Preparing to fling ice daggers at the Winter sidhe in front of me, I asked "Why are you here?"

"Mab requests your presence at court," he said.

I glanced back at Meghan, still sleeping peacefully. "I think we need to talk about this outside."

Accepting that, he walked with me outside, onto the front lawn, where two Winter faery steeds waiting, pawing at the ground. One for him… and one for me.

"Mab exiled me seventy years ago. What does she want with me? Is she lifting the exile?"

He recited "The exile of Prince Ash, the last remaining son of Queen Mab, is lifted." Last remaining son? Rowan must have finally died from iron exposure. "Upon the death of Meghan Chase, or before, he is to be returned to court to resume his princely duties."

" 'Upon the death of Meghan Chase' " I quoted. "She is still living." The messenger stared at me, as if this had no effect on him and his orders. I pointed my sword at one of the horses. "Ride back and tell Mab that I am coming. I will be there, some day." Hopefully not for at least another year. Hopefully she'll live that long.

The messenger looked like he wanted to protest, but I had my sword pointed at him, and he was intelligent enough not to test me. I waited until he disappeared in the trees, then returned inside, shutting and locking the door, though I knew it made little to no difference. If fey wanted in, they could get in.

Inside, everything seemed still and silent, as if nothing had lived there in a long time. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Somewhere in the distance, church bells began to ring, long slow tolls announcing the hour. It was only then that I realized how much it sounded like a funeral march.

"Meghan?" I called, running to our bedroom as shivers ran down my spine. "Meghan, are you okay?" I opened the bedroom door hurriedly, walking quickly to her bedside. She still lay in the same position as when I left her. Leaning down, I gently shook her shoulders. "Meghan, wake up. Wake up, Meghan."

She didn't move, didn't respond. Her eyes didn't open.

Taking a deep breath, I put two fingers at the crook of her neck, feeling for a pulse.

Nothing. Her body was still.

She was gone.

I didn't really notice my surroundings as I rode the faery steed through the Nevernever. I was too caught up in my memories.

Her dying. My composure breaking, sobbing for her. Digging a grave. Burying her. Taking nothing from the house but a picture of her and my sword. My wedding ring I still wore on my finger, though I knew I would have to take it off once I arrived in Tir Na Nog, once I became Prince Ash once again, instead of human Ash Chase, the one I had been for the past seventy-or-so years.

Arriving in Tir Na Nog, I rode straight to the palace. Though some people gave me surprised looks, thankfully no one stopped me. I dismounted right outside the palace and entered, walking quickly to the throne room, where I was sure Mab would be.

When I threw open the doors with a loud bang, everyone fell into a shocked silence, staring at me. I only watched Mab, at the other end of the room on her throne.

Rising from where she lounged, she glided towards me. "Ash, my son. You are finally home."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I'm not."

_"Home is not the place but the person that makes it so." - Unknown _

**A/N: Like I said, really sad. But I hope you understand Ash's last line there, what it means. Questions, comments, or concerns? There's a little button down there that says Review, just asking for you to click it. :)**

**Queen of Air and Darkness**


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